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“Hey, Katsuki, having fun babysitting?”
Summer break is in full bloom and it has meant that Yuuri’s spent the last three weeks between Minako-sensei’s studio and the ice rink with Yuuko-chan and Tadashi. Mari walks alongside him as they head home, her long hair tied high in an attempt to keep cool in the hot weather. Walking home along the shoreline always relaxing in hearing the gentle waves hitting the shore. He had been halfway through explaining the difference between a lutz and toe loop when the older boys had called out, sneering as his sister just raised an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t know; I’m not hanging out with children anymore,” taking Yuuri’s hand and pulling him a little closer to her. Whatever the implications of that are, it makes the older boys angry - the three circling around, grimacing.
“So rude. No wonder you’re gonna end up some unwanted old hag.”
“Oh, you wound me, Ono.” voice ladened with sarcasm and eyes rolling. “How long’d it take you to think of that one?”
“Didn’t have to, everyone knows it.” They’ve stopped circling, but the leader leans close to his sister before bending until he’s nose to nose with him. Fearful, he just clutches at Mari’s hand harder as she attempts to push the older boy from his space. Ono growls as he stumbles back and hits the ground. His friends move to jump in, but stop when he spits in Yuuri and Mari’s direction.
“Didn’t know you had gotten so lame you’d resorted to intimidating preteens.”
“Just wondering if he’s as much of a failure at life as you are.” Spitting back hurtful words that wriggle deep into Yuuri’s mind. “Pretty fat, isn’t he? And what are - oh, ice skates. But no hockey gear?” Dark eyes raking up him as he tries to huddle behind his sister - the larger boy smirking as he sees the cartoon skating mascot of the ice rink on his sports bag. A figure skating magazine Yuuko-chan had lent him peeking out of one of the front pockets. “He’s a fag too?”
“Leave him alone,” Mari’s voice much lower in anger. Glaring at the three in a challenge to try anything.
“Yep, a slut and a fag. Guess we know why the Katsuki Inn does so well - the freak show comes with the stay.” Chuckling at his own joke, he sneers a little wider. “Or maybe you’re offering something even better, huh?”
She had pulled Yuuri behind her completely now in protection; he could feel her anger shaking the solidness of her body. “I thought a slut was someone who wanted to sleep with you, Ono. Get your facts right if you want to start throwing insults.”
Yuuri wasn’t quite sure what did it - the snicker of the older teen’s friends at Mari’s quick comeback, the fact that his sister hadn’t flagged under the pressure of being outnumbered, or something else - but the moment the older boy, Ono, grabbed her shoulder, her ponytail, and pulled, Yuuri knew something had snapped. His sister roaring in fury as she punched against the hands dragging her to the shore. Yuuri’s struggling against the one holding him back, eyes wide as Mari screams in pain at the pull of her hair. No adults around, and the teens having hit the wave break. Face first into the salty water, Mari falls, and Yuuri growls in anger as it spirals with the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. All three of the older boys laugh at her struggle, two pushing her back into the briny water, again and again, clothes soaked through.
It takes all of his concentration to focus on kicking his leg out so it hits in the soft spot of the older boy’s knee that’s got him stuck; swinging his skate bag to hit him in the head as he stumbles forward. Sprinting toward the beach, he stumbles on the sand. Getting closer to the remaining two before swinging his skate bag again. Hitting one, and getting pushed up the shore by Mari before the other can retaliate and hit back - body cold from the water, back shielding the blow Ono aims their way. All of their running is slowed by the sea water and sand, but Yuuri and his sister are ahead enough that they’ve almost reached the pavement as Ono pulls his friend to his feet, still reeling from the hit from Yuuri.
The third boy cuts them off before they get much further though, and he scowls at both siblings. Heavy, stinking bucket in both hands, threatening as Yuuri skids to a stop beside his sister. Full of rotting fish guts, the bucket sloshes in a way that turns Yuuri’s stomach; refuse from the various fishing boats and fishermen putrid from the long summer day. Heavy footsteps thumping from behind have Mari seizing up again, and Yuuri barely has a moment to take a breath before she’s shouting for him to run, hide, get out of here, and he’s racing to the nearest store - the convenience store farther down the street open and welcoming in the deserted summer evening.
Tears are running down his face as he finally reaches the sliding glass doors; breathing heavy and shoes sandy as he barrels towards to the counter. Takahashi-san raising his eyebrows in surprise at quiet, withdrawn Katsuki Yuuri crumbling; begging for help for his sister as the building panic fogs his focus.
He leads the man outside, back the way he came, and breaking into a run as he sees Mari alone, kneeling in a puddle of decaying fish guts from the attack. Hair and clothes ruined with the pungent stench. She’s grimacing against the smell and moves to get on her feet, flinching as she shifts her shoulder. Yuuri moves a hand to cover his mouth to block the smell but tries to get close anyway. Takahashi-san looks stricken at the two, asking what happened. Mari shakes her head at the concern, and the following offer to escort them home - instead just complaining how she’d have to head straight into the baths, ignoring the dripping viscera from her hair and clothes. Thanking Takahashi-san for his help.
Yuuri can’t stop the tears or panic, gagging between sobs whenever the wind catches the smell stuck to his sister. Mari squeezes his hand hard, the one point of solidity that keeps him from completely sinking into the terrifying depths of his own fear. Mari’s hand, clean, patting through his hair as they walk home.
“Don’t pay attention to anything they said, Yuuri. They're idiotic jerks you shouldn’t spend too much time worrying about,” hand squeezing his again when he chokes back another sob. “You were really brave today - my hero.” Soft smile as she lets him cry, voice so soft it’s barely a whisper. “You really saved me kiddo.”
They get home via the back door near the kitchens, not wanting to disrupt the guests with either of their appearances or the smell. The chef takes one look at them and calls their mother, stepping aside once she comes in to see what the problem is. She gasps before hugging them both close - not caring about the mess of tears or cling of rotting fish - warm and loving and fiercely protective in her subdued way.
Mari leaves for the bath shortly after she breaks the embrace; moving quickly to the baths knowing that there isn’t likely to be any guests, so close to dinner. Yuuri snuggles closer when his mother embraces him closer, moving them both to the living quarters separated away from the guests. Wiping his face with a warm, damp cloth; kissing his cheeks as his crying slowed to small hiccups. By the time Mari’s back from the baths, freshly clean, he’s drifting in and out of wakefulness. Falling asleep right where he’s bundled in his mother’s lap, head against her shoulder.
Mari doesn’t like to admit she’s scared, shaken, by the earlier attack. Ono and his idiot friends were barely worth thinking about - guys she only knew from a handful of group parties her friends had organized, but she’d dismissed after they kept annoying her at school. It was stupid, the whole situation was so stupid, but threatening Yuuri had made her see red, and no spineless high schooler was going to hurt her younger brother.
Rinsing off the disgusting film of clinging stench of dead fish was a relief, and settling into the comforting water of the onsen helped soothe the darkening bruise on her back, sighing as she sunk lower, until the lower part of her face was submerged - a sharp contrast from the earlier bombardment of being shoved into the ocean. Deep breaths the only thing fighting the panic slowly curling up her spine. Warm steam escapes to the sky as her mind drifts. She can’t relax, but slowly she’s reaching a point where she doesn’t feel like she’s about to shatter apart, even if she hadn’t shown it. Yuuri was her top priority. She had to be strong for Yuuri.
She was raw and fragile, but no one had to know.
Anger spiked as she sat and stewed, long hair fanning around making her sick as she remembered rough hands dragging her down. Taking the heavy industrial scissors her family keeps in the tool drawer, she takes them back to the bathing section of the onsen, towel wrapped around her and face set in a determined glare. Cutting thick chunks of her hair away until the result was an uneven, unruly mess. There’s varying lengths and no semblance of style, but it suits the hot mess that is Katsuki Mari, she thinks. She was the opposite of everything people expected from the hospitality industry, and now, even more so, the self-doubts crawled up from the darkest parts of her psyche.
By the time she joined her mother in the living quarters, soft sweats and warmth deep in her core from the onsen chasing away the ocean’s chill, She'd reigned in most of her fears. Much more comfortable like this; her outfit trashed in the outside bins.
Her hair drips at the nape of her neck, large droplets falling every so often onto the tatami; the phantom pain of Ono and Mashima dragging her down to the shoreline keeping her distracted in the brush of the ends. It was frustrating - a constant reminder. Yuuri softly mumbling to himself as he slept, dragging her out of the distraction.
“Yuuri saved me. He was so brave.” Eyes focusing hard on the pattern of the tatami weave as she clenched her hands tight into fists. “I tried to protect him, but I couldn’t. I’m so sorry, Mom.”
“Oh, Mari, you did protect him.” One hand moving to run through her massacred hair. “You protected each other, and I couldn’t be prouder.”
Her mother had shifted Yuuri down from his close hug as he slept, moving him enough that he was leaning against her side. Their mother a strong support for the both of them in this moment.
Their mother was the perfect example of a Madam Innkeeper - her welcoming smile and sincere personality perfected. Cruel words echoed in her mind, undermining the hard work her mother, her family, put into the onsen. She hated Ono. Hated how much his taunting had cut so deep into the insecurity she buried deep. Biting her lip, it’s hard to watch her mother carding her fingers through the newly cut hair, looking so disheartened. It probably wasn’t because she was ashamed about Mari, but it felt like she should be.
“I'm sorry,” voice wavering. “I'm sorry I can't just be cute and reserved and more suited to running the onsen.”
The way she crumpled after that, folding into herself, was probably enough for the older woman to know exactly what she was thinking; avoiding making eye contact whilst she could.
“I wouldn't want you any other way, my little clam,” a childhood nickname she hadn’t heard in years; strong hands cupping her cheeks so she was looking at her mother now. No avoidance allowed. “We would be lost without you. “
That ‘s the straw that breaks the camel’s back - after the beating and rough handling, the fish guts and protecting Yuuri the best she could, cutting off her last thread of feminine expectation as the oldest daughter of innkeepers. She cries like she’s dispelling the ocean water she’d been dunked in - hot tears streaming down her face as she chokes and sniffles against her sleeve. The warmth of her mother’s acceptance burning her deep inside; so much love welling up.
“It doesn’t matter what you look like, or how long your hair is, Mari,” fingers in her hair again, soothing and calm. “What matters is on the inside. Your true worth is the person you are, Mari, not the one you or other people think you should be.
“You’ve done so much for your family, your brother, and the business. And I couldn’t be prouder to call you my daughter.”
She cried so, so much more that night.